


Between Hearts and Minds is a Thing Called Love

by RavenReyes0G



Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ari is better with feelings, Aristotle mendoza and dante quintana talk about feelings, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Relationship, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Going to college, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, In Love, Letters, M/M, Mentions of Nightmares, Mild Language, POV Dante Quintana, Post-Canon, Reading letters, The boys are grown up, They're also, True Love, a letter Ari never sent but now dante gets to read, but there's fluff!, i want them to be happy forever and ever, ish?, mentions of the accident, super super super, talking about feelings, they kiss a lot tho, they're going to college together, they're just so cute ofmg i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenReyes0G/pseuds/RavenReyes0G
Summary: Ari and Dante are getting ready to move to college in less than 12 hours. Their families throw them a party, but Dante finds himself in Ari's room, and discovers a letter that Ari wrote to him while he was still in Chicago. A letter he never meant for Dante to read.Basically my take on one of Ari's letters to Dante, but one he saved instead of throwing out.
Relationships: Aristotle Mendoza & Dante Quintana, Aristotle Mendoza & Gina Navarro (mentioned), Aristotle Mendoza/Dante Quintana, Dante Quintana & Soledad Quintana, Susie Byrd & Aristotle Mendoza (mentioned)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 96





	Between Hearts and Minds is a Thing Called Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I wrote this super late at night because I was rereading some of Ari & Dante and I just HAD to write something (so apologizes for any mistakes I missed in my edits). I hope you enjoy - comments/kudos make my day if you have the chance/desire to leave them! Stay safe out there!

The August heat was thick and heavy with humidity as Dante Quintana stood in Ari’s room, surveying the last of the furniture that still remained. Most of Ari’s stuff was in boxes on the floor, ready to be loaded into the pickup truck and driven to New Mexico, to a small liberal arts college that was about a five hour drive from El Paso. Dante remembered the day when they’d both gotten their acceptance letters. It had been a whirlwind of excitement, and tears (mostly by the moms), and gruff expressions of congratulations and firm pats on the back (mostly by the dads). And through it all, he and Ari had managed to sneak off in Ari’s truck and drive to the desert again, a couple of beer’s in their hands. 

They’d kissed, and talked, and laughed - and done other stuff that Dante couldn’t help but blush to think about (he was  _ not _ as shameless as Ari thought he was). They’d been giddy and drunk on the realization that they were about to get to spend the next four years of their lives together. Away from their parents, and Susie Byrd, and Gina Navarro, and everyone else they knew and loved. At the time, college had seemed like a far off dream. Some fantasy they knew was somewhat real, but just unreal enough to be tricked by the magic of a summer’s evening. And now they were leaving in less than 12 hours. 

He could hear laughter coming from downstairs, smiling a bit as he picked out Ari’s deep chuckle from the medley of sounds. He’d been in love with Ari for so long, he had every bit of him memorized. Every inch of skin on his body, every startled sound of laughter bubbling from his lips, every steady beat of his heart. He knew the way his cheeks flushed when Dante flirted with him in public, the gentle hitch of his breath every time Dante kissed him in just the right spot, the way his arms wrapped around Dante when they lay together on the bed of Ari’s truck. Dante loved Ari’s hugs. There was nowhere else in the world he felt more safe, more protected, or more loved. 

“Dante!” He heard Ari call his name from downstairs, no doubt noticing his prolonged absence. Sighing with a smile, he cast one final look around the room that had become like a second home to him. 

Just as he was about to leave, Dante noticed a piece of paper sticking out from between two books on Ari’s bookshelf in the corner - one of the few things that would not be coming with them to their shared dorm (purely for lack of space).

He walked over, weighing his curiosity with Ari’s right to privacy. But, as usual, his curiosity won out. Pulling it out, he noticed that it was fairly old, starting to yellow a bit at the ages. It appeared to be some sort of letter, but why Ari had hidden it away, he wasn’t quite sure. There were no markings on it to betray the name of either the writer or the intended recipient. 

Dante cast a quick glance at the door, checking to make sure that no one was coming to get him, before folding open the letter and beginning to read. 

_ January 27th, 1988 _

_ Dear Dante, _

_ I am sorry I have not written as often as I should, as often as you have written me. I hope you know that I miss you. I do, even though I have not told you so much. See, you write these long letters. You always have something to say. I don’t. I can’t. I keep everything inside. I bottle up the emotions I don’t wish to feel, and hide them away so I don’t have to feel them anymore.  _

_ But you already knew that.  _

_ You already know me.  _

_ But it is nearing two in the morning, and the moon outside my window is bright tonight. I think moonlight is so sad, don’t you? It’s silver and soft and melancholy. Melancholy. There’s a word I had to look up in your dictionary,  _

_ People know that the sun is more beautiful because it’s bright. It shines during the day, warm and true. You don’t have to doubt it, not for one second. Because every day the sun rises. And every day the sun sets. It is warm, and kind, and good. Like you, Dante.  _

_ To me, you are the sun.  _

_ And I guess if you are the sun, then I must be the moon. Did you know, the only reason why the moon shines at night is because of the sun? I bet you already knew that, though. I bet you know a lot of things I don’t. I bet you know that we are the sun and the moon, Dante.  _

_ Because without the moon, the sun still shines. It burns with its own radiance (that word was in one of your poems). But without the sun, the moon cannot shine. It is nothing but a chunk of matter in space, floating aimlessly forever. The world needs the sun. It does not need the moon _

_ The world needs you, Dante. I need you. _

_ Because without me, you are everything. But without you, I am nothing.  _

_ I miss you more than I have the words to say. More than 1,000 dictionaries or a book of poems. More than life. For I do not wish to live a great deal without you.  _

_ I am sad. It’s like there’s a hole in my heart, Dante. A hole that was ripped open the day my brother went to prison. A hole that was made wider and deeper the day that you left. It’s worse than being sad. When you are sad, you can watch, or read, or do something funny to make you laugh. Then you are not sad for a little while. _

_ No, what I am is worse than sad. I am lonely. I am so lonely I think the loneliness will eat me whole. I am so lonely that I see you in my dreams, Dante. In the space next to me as I learn how to walk and run again. I see you by the pool, and at the park, and in the stars at night.  _

_ Sometimes, when I am so lonely that it hurts to think or to feel, I drive to the middle of the desert, and I look up. These nights, the stars are my only company.  _

_ And when I think I could not miss you more, I look at the stars and know that I am wrong. The same stars that shine in my night sky, shine in yours. And yet. I can’t help but think that the stars must look different in Chicago. You are surrounded by people, and places, and things. It must be hard to be lonely when all that surrounds you. I know you have good friends, Dante. Better friends than me. People want to be around you, be around the sun. Soak up your glow, and cherish your light. The world is dark without you.  _

_ It is easy to be lonely in the desert. I think you know that, too. I think that’s why you took me there with your parents. To be lonely, but to be lonely together.  _

_ It makes my chest ache to think about you.  _

_ So I try not to, I try not to think, I try to run until I can’t think anymore. Sometimes it works.  _

_ Usually it doesn’t.  _

_ I’ve tried to make rules. I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. I made a rule. I could only think about you at night, right before I go to sleep. It doesn’t work. Mostly because I’m always thinking about you, Dante. But even when I’m not, thinking about not thinking about you just makes me think about you more.  _

_ I’m lost. And I want the ache to go away. To stop hurting me.  _

_ But I’m scared of it, the ache. I’m scared of what it means, and what it could do to me if I let myself feel it. But my heart is tired, it’s so tired that it holds me from sleep. Every night, I lie awake, wishing for the stars.  _

_ Wishing for you.  _

_ Please come home.  _

_ We can go swimming in the pool, and running with Legs barefoot. We can make up games to beat the hell out of your shoes. We can go to the desert and look up at the stars. And you can tell me all about Chicago, and your friends, and the parties you went to. And about the Art Institute. You can tell me even more than you already have, and I’ll listen until the sun rises and the stars disappear.  _

_ And maybe I’ll tell you some things too.  _

_ I know I’m not going to send this letter, but it felt good to write it down. Well, not good exactly. A little sad, a little happy, but not quite melancholy. Maybe there’s a word for this feeling in your dictionary. I think I’ll look it up later.  _

_ But that’s not my point. My point is that I want you to come home. I want to see you, and laugh with you, and just be with you.  _

_ I need you. I want you. I miss you.  _

_ Please come back. _

_ Your friend, _

_ Ari _

Dante put down the letter, heart breaking more than a little for his boyfriend who felt so alone. He wished he could go back in time, unwind the history of their lives to every point that had caused Ari pain. He wished that he could take every person who hurt him and make them regret it. Dante didn’t like violence. He didn’t like fighting. He liked talking. He liked laughing. He liked getting along with people. Ari was the fighter. Ari was strong.

But none of that applied when it came to Ari. 

For Ari, Dante would do anything. Without a shadow of a doubt. No matter what it was. 

But he knew he couldn’t fight sadness, or hurt, or loneliness. He knew that. But it didn’t mean he had to like it. Dante felt tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes, burning his nose. He hated how easily he cried - even at 18 - but Ari had always treated it as one of the most precious things about him. So he’d never really tried to hold back.

Dante regretted it immediately when he felt two strong arms wrap around him. He inhaled shakily, breathing in the sweet combination of smoke, sweat, and rain. A scent he’d come to know as Ari’s. He melted a little into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling his arms wrap tighter around Dante’s waist. 

Ari moved to kiss him, but stopped short when he saw the tears in Dante’s eyes. 

“What’s wrong,  _ querido _ ?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. Dante just gave a small sob and lifted the letter.

Immediately, Ari’s eyes darkened, and for a terrifying moment he was afraid that Ari was truly mad at him for reading the letter. But then Dante noticed the ghosts clouding in Ari’s deep brown eyes, and he understood. Dante turned around, and pulled his boyfriend into a tight hug without so much as a second thought. 

He felt Ari grip his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of Dante’s neck. It was long and soft and sweet, even as he knew they both were shaking a little. When they pulled away, Ari looked a bit unsteady, but Dante had managed to pull himself together and stop crying long enough to ask the question burning on his tongue. 

“Why did you never tell me about how you felt?” 

He knew it wasn’t really a fair question. Even though Ari was getting better, he still had trouble expressing himself at times. But they had shared so many intimate parts of each other, so many secrets kept close to their chests, that Dante wasn’t quite sure how this particular subject had managed to evade his knowledge for so long. 

Ari looked a combination of embarrassed and apologetic. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again,

“Back then...was a really hard time for me. I was in a muddy place. I was learning a lot more about my brother, about Bernardo, but I still didn’t know much. And...I guess I was still kinda reeling from the aftermath of the accident,” 

Dante noticed that Ari winced at the mention, even though it was no longer a taboo subject between them,

“I had these terrible nightmares where I would be the one in the driver's seat of that car, and I wasn’t paying attention, and suddenly you were right in front of me, and I couldn’t stop or break or anything. I was frozen, and I hit you,” 

Ari took a fortifying breath, dark caramel hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head a little, “I’d wake up sweating and screaming...so I tried not to sleep because I was afraid I’d see you in the road again. And this time I couldn’t save you. And...I don’t know,”

He pushed the hair from his face, and looked right into Dante’s eyes - coffee brown gaze melting with the fear of being truly vulnerable. 

Dante wanted to close the minute gap between them and hug and kiss his boyfriend until they forgot what this was even about, about the letter, and Ari’s nightmares, and the miserable year they’d spent apart. But he didn’t, and Ari kept talking. 

“I missed you. A lot. I mean,” He gestured to the letter still clutched in Dante’s white-knuckled grip,

“You can probably tell that. But...it was hard to read your letters, and run by your house with Legs, and go to the pool. Because everything reminded me of you, but you weren’t really there. And I think-” 

His eyes flashed brightly, locking on Dante’s with a burning intensity that made Dante’s skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I think I was realizing how I felt...about you, that is. And even though I didn’t want to even consider it, much less accept it, it was still there. So...yeah,” 

Ari dropped his gaze from Dante’s, arms folding protectively around himself. Dante didn’t know if it was on purpose, or simply a force of habit, but the gesture was enough to break him from his stupor. He launched himself into Ari, not caring when they got caught in a messy tangle of limbs and joints. He tilted Ari’s head upwards and kissed him full on the mouth. 

He tasted like the softness of the earth after rain, the sweetness of lemonade in the shade of willow tree, the magic of a warm summer’s night. Their kiss was sweet, and hot, and passionate. And Dante let himself drink in the taste of the beautiful boy wrapped in his arms. 

He was intoxicating. He was lovely. He was everything. 

He was Dante’s.

He couldn’t quite form the feelings bubbling in his chest into words, so Dante just kissed him harder. 

“How could I ever be ashamed of loving you, Dante Quintana?” Ari laughed breathlessly against his lips. 

Dante felt something warm and soft cloak his heart,

“I don’t know,” He pressed his forehead to Ari’s, closing his eyes as he whispered, “But I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you forever. And I’m sure as hell not going to stop now,” 

They stayed there for a time that stretched every second into an individual eternity. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Nothing else but Ari and Dante, and their hands, and their mouths, and their hearts. 

“Boys!” Mrs. Quintana’s voice rang from down the stairs, “Come down and talk to your family! You have four years to do whatever you’re doing up there!” 

They broke apart with flushed cheeks and embarrassed grins, giggling at their mussed up hair and swollen lips. 

“Jeez, mom! We’re coming!” Dante called, and turned back to Ari, taking in the amazing man who stood in front of him. His best friend, his boyfriend, his heart and home. The words tumbled from his lips before he even knew he was speaking. 

“I love you Aristotle Mendoza,” And when Ari smiled, and Dante could’ve sworn that it lit up the world.

“I love you too, Dante Quintana.” 

They clasped hands and made their way downstairs together, towards the celebration, their families, and the new life that lay ahead.

And what a life it was. 


End file.
